The Last Heiress (24 page)

“I should like that,” William Smythe said.

“Have you told Uncle about the kitten yet?” Elizabeth asked. “Will found the most adorable kitten hiding in our barge. He doesn’t know how it got there, but we’re taking it back north with us. We call it Domino because it is black and white. I have promised him if his Pussums does not like the little fellow I shall give it a home.”

“Pussums is an elderly lady now, and will probably resent the young fellow,” Lord Cambridge noted. “Still, I have grown used to having a cat about me, and now there will be one for each lap of an evening. If you want another cat, dear girl, you shall have to find your own, I fear.”

“Uncle! You are so good,” Elizabeth said, and Thomas Bolton chuckled.

She left him, and Lord Cambridge finished his meal before dressing for their ride. The three horses were awaiting them at the stables, and they rode out into the countryside surrounding Greenwich. At one point Elizabeth raced her horse ahead of her two companions and over a hillock, while they walked their beasts sedately behind her.

“Mistress Elizabeth seems a bit sad today,” William Smythe noted.

“I believe given the smallest bit of encouragement she could have fallen in love with the Scots king’s messenger, Flynn Stewart,”

Thomas Bolton noted. “He is more a gentleman than many, Will. But of course unsuitable.”

“Because he is a Scot,” Will said.

“Aye, and yet nay,” Lord Cambridge said. “If he were not the king’s half brother he might very well suit. I had thought to find Elizabeth a good English husband, but given the Friarsgate inheritance, I realize that may no longer be possible. What is left to us, dear boy? We must either force her into a marriage with one of our northern English, or she finds a Scot who suits her. But Flynn Stewart’s loyalty to the Scots king is too great. Should there be another war, and eventually there will be, he could not remain neutral. Friarsgate has always managed to remain dispassionate in the face of these disputes between England and Scotland. Its isolation has kept it safe from marauding armies. Perhaps a Scots husband, a plain Scot with no important connections, a Scot of good family, would suffice.”

“You have someone in mind, my lord?” Will asked, and knew the answer before his master even spoke. Thomas Bolton had obviously given a great deal of thought to this problem of Elizabeth Meredith and the Friarsgate generations to come after her.

“Mayhap, dear boy, I do, but I am not quite ready to reveal all,”

Lord Cambridge said. His look was thoughtful.

“You have said naught to Mistress Elizabeth, I assume,” Will spoke.

“Nay, nor will I. Nor will I speak with my cousin Rosamund yet. I must see if this possible match is the right one for Elizabeth before I even bring it up, dear boy, and you must keep my secret.”

“Have I not always kept your secrets, my lord?” Will replied.

Lord Cambridge smiled. “You are a treasure, dear boy, and you well know I could not do without you,” he said.

Elizabeth galloped back to rejoin them. “You two are so poky,” she said.

“We are simply letting you run off your great energies, dear girl,”

Thomas Bolton told her. “Will and I are quite enjoying our sedate ramble.”

She laughed, and, wheeling her mount about, she dashed off down the road again.

“Ah, youth,” Thomas Bolton observed.

Elizabeth felt better for escaping the tedium of the court, and galloping about the countryside. She liked returning home to her uncle’s house and eating a rather well cooked meal instead of watching the king and Mistress Boleyn eat and then nibbling what she could find.

She particularly enjoyed going to bed at what she considered a reasonable hour instead of staying up half the night. She was a country woman, and content to be so.

She returned to court the following day, and sought out her friend, Anne Boleyn.

“Where were you?” Anne demanded to know. “Your sister would say only that you were resting, as you were not used to the pace of court life.”

“You spoke to Philippa?” Elizabeth was surprised.

Anne’s little cat smile exhibited itself. “Aye. She came to me, and curtseyed, and said you were home in bed. It was difficult for her, I know, but her manners are really quite flawless, Bess. Does she still support the queen?”

“I do not know if ‘support’ would be the correct term, Anne,” Elizabeth said, careful to protect her sister. “You must remember Queen Katherine has been our mother’s friend from early girlhood. My mother’s friendship never wavered in those difficult days before Queen Katherine married the king. Mother brought Philippa to visit court when she was only ten years of age, and from that moment on my sister wanted nothing more than to serve the queen. She did, of course, from the time she was twelve until her marriage. The queen has been good to Philippa. She feels a certain loyalty to her,” Elizabeth explained. “If she did not I should not respect her as I do, but even Philippa is impatient with the queen’s intractability in the matter of a divorce.”

“And when I am queen will she feel the same loyalty for me that she feels for Katherine of Aragon?” Anne wanted to know.

“How can she?” Elizabeth answered candidly. “But she will respect your position as queen. Of that you may be assured. She is ambitious for her sons.”

Anne nodded. “I will miss you, Bess, for no one speaks so honestly to me as you do. Must you return to your bleak northern estates?”

“I will wither away, dear Anne, if I cannot go home soon,” Elizabeth said. “But I do not consider Friarsgate bleak. It is beautiful, with the green hills tumbling into my lake, and those same hillsides dotted with my sheep. I long to awaken to the song of birds, and a fresh Cumbrian breeze blowing through my windows. Aye, I must go home.”

Anne sighed. “To be able to do what you desire is a privilege that I will always envy,” Anne Boleyn said softly. “I must do as I am told.

When I am queen, however, I shall obey only the king!” she declared.

“Anne, I would beg a boon of you,” Elizabeth said. “Will you ask the king if my uncle and I may leave Greenwich before he does? I do not think I can bear waiting.”

Anne nodded. “I will ask him,” she promised.

“Ask me what?” the king demanded to know as he entered Mistress Boleyn’s privy chamber. He bent and kissed her lips.

Anne colored prettily. “Bess would like to go home now, Hal,” she said softly. “While I will miss her, I do understand her need to be where she is happiest, for I am where I am happiest when I am with you. We will not leave Greenwich for several more days, and custom demands that having been a part of the court she remain until the king departs. Would you not, I pray you, give her permission to go sooner?”

The king looked at Elizabeth. He reached out and tipped her heart-shaped face up so he might meet her gaze. “You look like your father, but I can see you are like your dear mother in your heart’s desire. Friarsgate is where you get your strength, Elizabeth Meredith. I have thought you looked pale these last few days. Unlike your sister, the Countess of Witton, you are not a creature of the court. You have our permission to leave as soon as you may make ready. Tell your uncle to come and bid me farewell today, that you may then go with our blessing for a safe journey, Elizabeth Meredith.” He held out his big hand to her and, taking it, Elizabeth kissed it.

Anne watched, and thought that while she counted Elizabeth Meredith her friend, she would not be sorry to see her depart sooner than later. She brought back memories to the king that Anne would prefer he forget. She did not want Henry Tudor living in a happier past. Anne wanted him in the present, happy with her. If only his divorce could be arranged! They would marry, she would give him sons, and they would be happy forever.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Elizabeth said in a soft voice. Then she stood and, bending, she kissed Anne’s cheeks. “Thank you for your friendship, Anne. I will cherish it always. And I will pray for you, and your heart’s desire.” Then Elizabeth curtseyed to the king and his companion, backing gracefully from their presence. She hurried to find Lord Cambridge, and told him that once he had made his farewells to the king they were free to depart Greenwich at any time.

“Dear girl!” he exclaimed, “you have your mother’s charm when you choose to exhibit it. I shall go immediately. The day is young, and if we hurry the servants we can be packed and ready to depart on the morrow. I shall leave the house open for your sister, for Philippa will not leave until the king departs. And she will probably remain with the court until they go to Windsor in mid-June. But you and Will and I shall go home, Elizabeth! With luck we shall reach Friarsgate by Mid-Summer’s Eve, and watch the fires on the hills to celebrate.”

Then, turning, he moved quickly off.

Elizabeth departed the palace, almost running through the wood that separated the king’s enclosure from her uncle’s house. Finding Nancy in the kitchens she told her, “We are to go home. Tomorrow, if we can be packed!”

“Us too?” Lucy, her sister’s tiring woman, asked.

“Nay,” Elizabeth told her. “You know your mistress.”

“Aye, she’ll stay till the angel blows his trumpet.” Lucy chuckled.

“How she loves this court life. She was barely out of childbed with her daughter but that she would come for you, Mistress Elizabeth. I am sorry you have found no husband.”

“I’m not,” Elizabeth said. “Friarsgate is mine, and mine alone. I’ll be upstairs, Nancy. Do not dally.” And then she was gone from the kitchens.

Lucy shook her head. “She ain’t easy, is she?” she said to Nancy.

“Aye, she really is easy, but all she thinks about is Friarsgate. It consumes her like the court consumes your mistress. It ain’t natural, I’m thinking.” She rose from the table where she had been seated. “I’d best go up or she’ll be jamming her gowns in the trunks in her hurry to leave here.” Nancy followed in her mistress’s wake.

And while the two young women busily packed, Thomas Bolton found Philippa preparing to play tennis with a friend. He drew her aside. “Your sister has managed to get the king to allow her to leave as soon as possible,” he said. “The house is yours until the court departs for Richmond again. And you know the London house is at your disposal as well. Come and have supper with us tonight. If I know Elizabeth, she will have us on the road for home by sunrise tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Philippa shook her auburn head. “I am so sorry, Uncle, that I have failed the family,” she told him.

“You have not failed, nor have I,” he told her. “What we sought to accomplish was a herculean task, dear girl. Elizabeth is not you, with your sophistication, or even Banon, who is content to be a wife and a mother. She is the heiress to Friarsgate, and she takes that responsibility most seriously. It will take a very special man to husband her.”

Philippa sighed, knowing he was right. “I wish you good fortune in your quest, dear Uncle.” Then she giggled, reminding him very much of the younger Philippa he had once known. “It is a bit like seeking the Holy Grail, isn’t it?”

“Do not say it, dear girl!” he exclaimed. “Remember, the Grail was never found.”

Philippa now laughed aloud. “I shall miss you,” she said, hugging him.

“And I will come home early so we may all have a final meal together.”

“Excellent! Now I must go and bid adieu to our most noble monarch,” Lord Cambridge said, and he hurried from the tennis court.

He found the king preparing to leave Mistress Boleyn’s apartments for the midday meal. Thomas Bolton bowed with élan. “Majesty!” he said.

“By God, Tom,” the king exclaimed, “no one can execute a bow like you! You are the most elegant fellow. You have come to bid us farewell, I assume.”

“I have, majesty. As much as I regret my niece’s eagerness to return north so quickly, I must accompany her. Rosamund would not approve of her traveling alone.”

“And when will you return to us?” the king wanted to know.

“That, your majesty, is a moot point. I am sixty years of age now, and find that travel does not hold the same charms for me that it has in the past. I have become, I fear, like a large tabby who prefers his own hearth,” Lord Cambridge admitted with a wry smile and a tilt of his head.

“We will miss your style and your wit,” the king replied, “but we understand. Go then with our permission, Tom, and I hope to see you again one day.” The king held out his big, beringed hand, and Lord Cambridge kissed it.

When the hand had been withdrawn Thomas Bolton turned his attention to Mistress Boleyn. He kissed her elegant little hand, noting the tiny sixth finger she possessed. Leaning forward, he murmured something into her ear.

Anne smiled broadly, a rare sight indeed, and kissed his smooth cheek. “Thank you, my lord,” she said. “It is the perfect solution. Why I did not think of it myself I do not know.”

“Sometimes, dear lady, the most obvious answer is the most elu-sive,” Lord Cambridge told her. “I wish you good fortune,” he said, and then, bowing a final time, moved away.

“What did he say to you?” the king wanted to know as they moved toward the hall where the midday meal was to be served them.

“He suggested I wear my sleeves a bit longer to disguise the finger on my left hand,” Anne Boleyn replied. “His instinct for fashion is most amazing, Hal.” She was pleased, for that tiny extra appendage was a source of embarrassment to her.

Thomas Bolton hurried from the palace, almost as relieved as he suspected Elizabeth had been. He would not see this place again, he sensed.

When he returned home he would spend the rest of his life in Cumbria.

And was it not time? He was no longer a young man, and he was beginning to feel his years. Especially in his knees, he considered with a grin. Entering the house and going to his apartments, he discovered Garr, his valet, and Will already packing. He chuckled. Had none of them enjoyed this visit to court that they were all so eager to depart?

Philippa arrived for the evening meal to discover the traveling cart already fully loaded. She shook her head and laughed to herself. She and Elizabeth were only four years apart in age, yet they were a hundred years apart in attitude. She was a modern woman who understood the ways for her sons to get ahead in society. Elizabeth was content to be a responsible landowner. Neither of them was going to change, but Philippa did want her youngest sister to be happily wed.